


Stories of the Hearth

by Joelcoxriley



Series: Stories That Bind [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adorable Cole (Dragon Age), Blood Mages, Blood Mages (Dragon Age), Blood Magic, Character Death In Dream, Childbirth, Childhood Memories, Cole (Dragon Age) Being Cole, Cole (Dragon Age) Ships It, Cole (Dragon Age) Talks A Lot, Cole is a Daddy, Cole worries about being a good dad, Cute Cole (Dragon Age), F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Having Faith, Heavy Asunder References, Helpful Cole, Helpful Cole (Dragon Age), Home, Homecoming, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Human Cole (Dragon Age), Inquisitor (Dragon Age) is not the Herald of Andraste, Nugs, Post-Book: Dragon Age - Asunder, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Romance, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-02-19 15:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22279615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joelcoxriley/pseuds/Joelcoxriley
Summary: A strange boy once met a foolish girl.Slowly, hesitantly, shyly, like the growing of a young sapling, the strange boy and foolish girl eventually developed a friendship.And as time went on, their friendship matured and blossomed into something else.It bloomed into love.Now they seek to find a home for a newly beating heart.*Sequel to Stories in the Ink**Cole is a daddy ficlet.*
Relationships: Bunny & Cole (Dragon Age), Cole (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Cole/Solona
Series: Stories That Bind [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603666
Comments: 20
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to use this chapter as an introduction. It will have the same random one shot structure as Stories in the Ink. I'm not sure how long this story will go to, but I assume at least until after the child is born.
> 
> I just really need more happy, cute content right now.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and supporting this shitty couple and my shitty character and shitty one shots. :)

There was once a time, where a strange boy met a foolish girl.

Some say he was drawn to her, because he saw things within her drawings that no one else could.

Things, that he claimed, were stories hidden in the ink, and weaved by spirits.

Upon noticing she was being watched, the foolish girl offered the strange boy a chance to write his own stories in ink.

From that offering of something so simple, stemmed something most grand.

Slowly, hesitantly, shyly, like the growing of a young sapling, the strange boy and foolish girl eventually developed a rapture in friendship.

And as time went on, their friendship matured and blossomed into something else.

It bloomed into love.

Gentle, and caring, and passionate in all its tender fury.

And as their love grew, so did they grow, themselves.

The strange boy, Cole, learned what it meant to be human, and with it, all of its beauty, and faults.

But most importantly, the strange boy learned to forgive himself, and accept himself, just as the foolish girl did for him.

The foolish girl, Solona, learned that one need not be fearless to be brave.

But most importantly, the foolish girl learned to love herself, and cherish herself, just as the strange boy did for her.

They grew, and they loved, and they discovered together.

And even still, not a year after the final sealing of the Breach, the pair were still exploring, and learning, and growing.

They never forgot what it meant, to see each day anew as if through the eyes of a child.

They knew that the beauty of the world never left, even in all the darkness that appeared to smother out all the light and hope.

The beauty, the colors of the world never left, even when faced with the horrors brought upon it by the Anchor.

It was always there, just waiting to be seen, discovered once more with eyes anew.

And with Solona's hand so lovingly entertwined with his, Cole knew he had discovered the light in the world. He just needed to learn where to look.

He saw the joy within the world when she smiled, the girl's lips molded into a nigh perminant grin at the simple act of holding hands.

He saw the beautiful colors of the world when her normally pale cheeks flushed a red hue upon raising her feminine hand, and brushing his lips gently, tenderly against her knuckle. He saw her skin blush and redden, rich with the laughter of mirth, voice like a trickling steam.

He saw the light within her eyes shine as bright as the stars. Cole liked it when she smiled with her eyes.

Yes, he remembered what it was like to see the world anew, in all its hope and light.

She did, too.

It was why the pair were trekking, hand in hand, along a road less traveled by.

To find a home, that was safe and welcome, to all passersby.

To find a home, with sturdy walls, and a warm, mighty hearth.

To find a home, that would be a haven, for a newly beating heart.

To find a home, for a new family, soon to be made whole.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Cheesy scene ahead. Or heartwarming.
> 
> However you view it. :)

An abandoned cabin they found, and a home it soon became. A building, once neglected and cold, now tended and cleaned, and made welcome with warm furs, homely decorations and a roaring hearth.

The cabin was small, and humble, tucked away in forest, a sole dirt road leading to a small farming village.

A small, seemingly insignificant hovel, now meant so much more.

To the Foolish Girl and the Strange Boy, the cabin meant everything, and more.

It was perfect, in all its faults.

Solona never imagined she would have a home of her own. A true home. A place where she could be safe, and secure. Not like the Circle Tower of Ferelden. Not like the Wilds. Not like Haven. Not like Skyhold.

Places where she was just existing, and taking up space.

No. This little cabin in the woods-was so much more.

The Herald took the time to clean the aged wood and windows, decorating the home with trinkets often handmade and potted plants of vivid colors.

Solona's small hands were often coated in a film of dried dirt from tending to the plants outside, her simple dress sporting stains from dirt and grasses.

Of the pair, the mage was the one that opted to remain near her home, protective and possessive of the cabin-and proud. Solona was quite content busying herself with non magical duties-knitting blankets, working the soil to nurture plants, baking bread, and cleaning.

Solona was happy to have a normal life-as much as a mage could.

If the blood mage was truthful with herself-she was isolating herself for protection, and caution.

Afterall, the dangers of being an apostate still ran fresh within her mind, and she was quite sure the local folk would not be so kind as to tolerate a mage-much less a blood mage, Herald or no.

Cole was more the little social butterfly, meandering off to the village every so often, seeking to help.

Seeking to comfort.

Seeking to sooth.

Seeking to do more.

Solona knew Cole would much rather be off, traveling and adventuring, trying to find more people to help.

But at the same time, the woman knew Cole would rather be nowhere else in Thedas than by her side.

It was sweet, really. Sweet, and loving, and heartwarming. Solona didn't think she ever knew of anyone else who was proud of her simply for being, well, her.

Except with Nana.

That single thought caused Solona to pause in her brief watering of her crops and herbs, a frown molding itself upon her thin lips. Despite the cool winds, and fair warmth of the sunlight that cascaded passed the conifers, Solona was sweating slightly, perspiration slothfully forming upon her brow, normally pale cheeks flushed a faint rosy hue.

She was hot, she was sweaty, she was covered in dirt with sediment caked under her nails, and she was terribly sure a nug could be kept cleaner than her despite the little things living under the ground.

The Herald licked her lips in thought, tasting the salt and earth upon her skin. The mage's blue eyes flicked from plant to plant, as if inspecting each and every one within her little garden. Then her gaze fell upon the gardening equipment that would need to be cleaned, piled against the side of the cabin. Her oceanic orbs then moved to the house itself, inspecting the lumber walls-aged and sporting patches of moss that would need to be cleaned away, a corner of the cabin displaying scars from an occasional bear that liked to gnaw on their home or use their dwelling as a scratching post.

Or a back scratcher, if the course, brown fur clinging to the wood had anything to say about it.

Solona then focused her attention to the surrounding forest, conifers towering and lush with needle like leaves-which fell upon the forest floor. Smaller vegetation grew where it could in the sunlight that broke from the treetops, songbirds calling and singing from places she could not see.

A sullen, if faint, frown was still molded within the black haired woman's features. The blood mage inhaled deeply, bosom expanding as she did, bringing in the sent of the earth and forest. When Solona exhaled, it was slow, and lax, almost meditative.

Slowly, the woman set the container down upon the damp earth that was pooling around her doeskin shoes. Her ankles were swollen, and her feet sore. Solona supposed she did it to herself-being on her feet, standing, kneeling and carrying objects whilst pregnant...

"Solona!"

The black haired mage was pulled from her thoughts, body pivoting to turn towards the voice, a grin molding upon her features, blue eyes sparkling in mirth, "Hello, love! How fairs your adventures in the village?"

Cole grinned foolishly from under his hat, blue eyes almost completely hidden from the waterfall of golden bangs. The young man carried an arm full of goods-ranging from what appeared to be a fat coin purse, herbs, some kind of baked goods housed in containers, and Floofools himself. Though the nug was less within Cole's arms, and more upon the man's shoulder, stubby body at home with exerting as little physical activity as possible. How Cole managed to not drop anything was beyond Solona.

"Good!-" Cole chirped, taking the opportunity to seal his lips with Solona's own in a smooch as the woman drew near to help take some things out of his arms. Solona was caught quite off guard at the ambush of affection, though found that she could not stop smiling once the kiss was broken, however chaste and simple. During the exchange, Floofools took the advantage to move from Cole's shoulders-to Solona's, the tattered eared nug perching himself quite happily upon the woman, chittering in content, whiskers twitching.

"Oof! Floofools-you little fat thing, you! You're heavy!" The mage commented, taking the herbs and a container, "Nugs are not meant to be on shoulders."

"He got tired." The blonde man spoke, "His legs are short. The village is far for him." Not that Cole seemed to mind carrying around his pet for that reason.

Solona produced a noise as she exhaled from her mouth, "Pffft! He is fat and lazy. He just knows how to manipulate. Mister Floofools is as crafty as Leliana. Don't fall for it, into thinking otherwise." The woman spoke, opening a container out of curiosity, peaking inside.

Ohh! Cookies!

Floofools' whiskers twitched, the little nug attempting to edge himself up his human's arm, wanting a treat. Solona closed the lid, "None for you, you little fat thing! You are roly poly enough."

And the only one that wasn't roly poly around here was Cole.

Because the young man was the only one that wasn't fat or pregnant. And Cole couldn't get pregnant.

"I helped Widow Martha milk her cows today. Kneeling down hurts her knees, and carrying the buckets of milk uphill makes her winded. I really like her, Solona. She is nice, and kind. I think you would like her, too." The blonde man spoke, shifting the remaining objects in his arms to better grip them as Cole walked towards the cabin, "She wants to meet you. I talk about you a lot to her. Martha says you sound like a nice girl, and that you're good for me. She gave me sweets as payment."

Solona smiled slightly as Cole opened the door, "Is Martha an older woman? She sounds like she is very nice." The blood mage commented, setting the herbs and containers carefully upon a wooden table. Once finished, Solona carefully grabbed the fat nug that was upon her shoulders, and gently set the animal down upon a furred rug.

Floofools wiped his nose with his stubby paws, before scampering and moving to hide under the bed. The bunny-pig ended up getting stuck mid way under the bed, wedged between floor and frame. The nug wiggled, attempting to shimmy his way to become unstuck and hide under the safety of the bed. He could not.

Solona just shook her head, motioning to the Fade-Touched man, as if to prove her point that their pet was too fat for his own good. Being stuck in a small, barely two roomed cabin probably wasn't the healthiest living conditions for a nug. And letting the poor thing roam outside unattended was risky.

"She is quite old, yes. But not as old as Nana." The young man spoke, spying his little friend in distress. Spoils of the day hoarded on the table, Cole then dropped himself to his knees, hands carefully moving to free his little hairless friend.

The Herald briefly watched the blonde as Cole shifted himself to lay sideways upon the floor, attempting to get a better grip on Mister Floofools. The act caused his hat to fall off of his head, and the movement of his arms caused his stitched together shirt to rise up his abdomen, revealing lean musculature rippling under his skin.

Well, at least someone was keeping in shape.

Because Solona sure as fuck wasn't.

The black haired mage then slowly sat down upon a chair, giving her swollen feet a break. She found it was quite difficult to get comfortable, given that her swollen stomach was putting more pressure upon her back. She felt like a bloated snoufleur. And she was only-what? Five months into her pregnancy? Solona couldn't imagine herself getting any larger. At least when compared to her first pregnancy. Back then, everything just seemed so large, and her body too small. It was certainly a scary time. The mage thought she would get so large, she would explode.

It then occurred to Solona that she never spoke about pregnancy with another woman. Ever.

Even when the opportunity arose when she was a young girl, and Nana offered, Solona never did ask, nor speak, of her pregnancy. Not even in the years after.

Solona now wished she did.

She wished she spoke to Nana more.

The Herald released a deep exhale, cheeks puffing as she blew a few stray strands of hair from her face, "I wish Nana was here. Just...I don't know. I never really talked to her, about, you know... _that_. She offered, once, but, I didn't ask anything. About pregnancy, about babies. I didn't know how to ask about those things. I wish I did, so I could know. Know what to expect and do. Like...I went through it before, but, it feels so different now-in a good way, mostly. It's just...I don't know...I don't entirely know where I'm going with this. I'm just blubbering." The woman's voice became a mere mumble, Cole having paused in his rescue of Floofools to better listen to his companion.

The blonde just frowned, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you by mentioning her."

The blood mage shook her head, a hand moving as if to wave away Cole's comment, "No, don't, I just-I just wish so many things went different with her. Like...I wish she and I got to spend more time together. I wish she got to meet you-truly meet you-and get to know you. I imagine she would have liked you a lot-said that you're a fine young man. A good young man. I wish she got to see me against Corypheus. I wish she got to see us now-you and me-right here, right now. She would be so happy, and proud, I think. Just...stupid, foolish things like that. Things I can't change. Things that won't ever be." Solona then fell silent, a hand moving to rest upon her belly-mainly because she felt butterflies-which usually meant the baby was moving.

Cole resumed to frown, though restarted his rescue mission of his favorite pet nug in the world, "It's not foolish-" A light grunt was heard, and Mister Floofools was finally freed, suspended in the air in the blonde's grip. The nug was then gently and carefully placed upon the ground, the young man slowly sitting upright, "That just means you're real. Human. It isn't stupid, or foolish, Solona. You care for her, and she cared for you. That's just...the way things are."

The young blonde looked upon the dark haired woman, and found that a smile was upon her face, gentle and warm, a feminine hand still upon her swollen stomach. Solona dark blue eyes briefly flicked towards Cole's own, and when she called to him, her tone was soft, gentle, tender, and loving, as if she were fearful of speaking too loud or too forcefully, "Cole, come here." The woman motioned gently towards her belly.

Cole said not a word, gingerly crawling towards the mage, hat forgotten and neglected upon the floor. When the blonde in stitched leathers neared, Solona lovingly, tenderly, enveloped Cole's larger fingers with her own, and carefully placed them upon her stomach, "Right there, love. Feel." The woman spoke in a soft and gentle coo, tone like honey-viscous and sweet.

Cole's blue eyes looked up towards Solona under golden bangs, before flicking to her belly. His calloused hand gently pressed against the cloth fabric of her dress, Solona's smaller one above his own. He could feel the warmth of her body, and the warmth of her hand.

And through that all-Cole felt something.

It was soft, and faint, a gentle thump-or perhaps a flutter-from inside the woman.

Cole felt it once, and then he felt it again.

His breath hitched, and his hand began to sweat and tremble.

He felt Solona's smaller fingers envelop around his own, and her soft, gentle voice fluttered towards him, as if carried upon a lullaby, "Do you feel the baby, Cole? Our baby?"

Cole tried to answer.

He couldn't.

Not at first.

His tongue forgot how to form words, like before.

So, so many times like before.

Cole couldn't bring himself to speak.

But the grin upon his face-and the sparkle within his eyes-that said more than any words could ever say.

Their baby.

His baby!

It was his baby!

It was his _real_ baby!

Cole's hands moved to run along the curvature of Solona's swollen belly, lips pressing firmly, yet tenderly, lovingly into the fabric of her dress.

How funny it was, that all this time, the baby was real for Solona. She was the one that was ill, hurt, yet happy, and carrying around a growing heartbeat within her womb. All day. Every day.

Every day the baby was with her.

Every day she felt the baby.

While Solona spent every day with the babe, today was Cole's first day at experiencing just a flicker of what the mother was feeling.

He felt the baby!

He felt it kick!

Kick in her belly!

And not just any baby!

 _His_ baby!

The blonde found himself pressing his head against the woman, nuzzling into her, an arm wrapping around her back in a form of hug, "Yes. _Our_ baby. _Our real_ baby."

Solona smiled, free hand moving to comb through blonde's hair, fingers becoming lost in a sea of gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and supporting. I have ideas for the next chapter that will involve the pair going to village festival.
> 
> Because why not?
> 
> I imagine Cole as the more social one, and he's trying new things in the quest to better understand himself and be real, as well as help people.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter! 
> 
> Yay!
> 
> I'm sorry it's short. For some reason I had a hard time writing this scene. Cole seems to have some anger issues when I write him :'D

A lot of times Solona forgot that Cole was not always the sweet, loving and thoughtful young man she was starting a new life with. Many times she forgot that he was not defenseless. That he was more than capable of taking care of himself. Was not as naive as he let on. Was more observant than he let on.

Was more dangerous than he let on.

But she was reminded the moment the Fade-Touched blonde removed his shirt of stitched together cloth and leathers, revealing a lean build of athletic musculature underneath. And around his torso-was a bandage wrapped tight, stained a rustic crimson from blood long dried upon the right side of his ribs.

Solona's deep blue eyes focused upon the bandaged wound, the corners of her thin lips molding into a frown, brow crinkling into a worried furrow. Her eyes shone with concern, worry, and ever building rage-as was the flushing of her cheeks, veins fluttering under the skin of her neck.

"Cole-," The black haired woman seethed, her tone causing the blonde to turn his attention towards the mage, who rose from her chair upon swollen ankles, "- _We talked about this._ "

Despite her caustic words carrying wrathful venom, Cole was swift to Solona's side in three strides, his calloused hands tenderly gripping her arms, as if to steady and calm--as if to reassure. The blonde's chapped lips molded into a frown, a thumb lightly running over the cloth covering her arm, blue eyes nigh hidden behind a waterfall of gold, "I know."

The man's voice was soft, gentle and tender as he spoke. Solona felt the young man's eyes roaming her. Studying her. His grip upon her arms were light, yet firm. The bulge that currently was her stomach almost pressed against Cole's more masculine one. She found his eyes falling downcast to her swollen belly, tongue briefly licking upon chapped lips before his eyes flicked up to her own.

When Cole spoke, his tone was harder. More calloused. More wrathful.

"They were _hurting_ people, Solona. Hurting the farmers. I couldn't let them. I wouldn't. Because if the bandits hurt the people of the village, they can hurt _you, too_." A hand then released the blood mage's arm, and a warm palm pressed itself flush to the woman's reddened cheek, his larger fingers curling and cupping, tilling and toiling with her strands of black hair.

The young man's brow pressed against Solona's own, gold mixing with black. His eyes met hers, foreheads and noses touching. She could feel the heated rage upon his breath, and in the touch of his hand to her cheek-underneath the tenderness and love-she could feel it. The fear of his trembling hand, unsteady as his calloused fingers gripped her skin and hair, desperate to hold and assure himself-desperate to keep hold of the foundation of his cause-his reason.

She saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch.

Cole was afraid.

Afraid for her.

Afraid for his family.

And seeing her lover in such distress made Solona's features soften, her eyes scanning him in worry, "Cole-"

A pair of chapped lips pressed themselves against her brow, lingering and desperate. A deep exhale of breath escapied the man as he breathed, and upon parting from the witch, uttered softly, shakenly, breathlessly, "They can hurt _you, too_."

"C-mmph!" The force of his lips smashing against hers caused their teeth to clink together, and the sheer ferocity of the man's affections caused Solona to stumble backwards and hit the aged wooden table with a muffled grunt.

His hands were upon her, gripping her tightly, desperately, his arms moving to wrap around her, body pressing against her own.

Thoughts swirled through the black haired woman's head, gnarled and twisted, though it did not stop an arm from wrapping around the lean man's neck, fingers interlacing into his hair, running through a sea of gold. It did not stop Solona from returning the kiss.

And it did not stop Cole from deepening it as their tongues began to join in a dance.

Tongues tied tenderly, heated breath escaping through gasps and pants.

It was a fiery, passionate dance.

But it was a dance that Solona chose to break, her free hand softly resting upon the man's chest. Cole's chest broadened as he heaved in ragged, shaky breaths, normally pallor face flushing underneath platinum bangs, lips quivering in want. His warm grip upon the woman remained tight, desperate and trembling, muscular arms tensing.

Solona's hand rose from Cole's chest, and ascended to lovingly caress his flushed cheek, brushing away the pale bangs that clung to his face. Her blue eyes met his own, and she smiled warmly, yet sullenly, her soft palm pressing flush against his skin. When the Herald spoke, her voice was soft, gentle, a mere whisper, "You don't have to worry about them hurting me, Cole. They will _never_ hurt me. Not when I'm safe in your arms."

The blood mage smiled, and planted a firm, comforting kiss upon the blonde's flushed cheek, and then his lips.

She felt a smile form against her kiss-a look which was plastered upon Cole's face even as the woman parted from him. The blonde exhaled deeply in contentment, neck craning and head lowering to nuzzle himself in the crook of the woman's neck. His arms wrapped tightly around the little mage, Solona's own coiling around his shoulders, his neck-fingers combing through hair.

The black haired mage exhaled deeply, slowly, fingers curling to tighten the embrace, "I don't want you to get hurt doing something you don't have to do. But a lot of times, I forget. I forget you can take care of yourself in a fight."

She was so used to seeing just one side of the Fade-Touched young man, and not the other.

The one that was callous.

The one that was fierce.

The one that was rage.

The one that was merciless.

The one that fought.

And the bandage that she saw, old wound stained a rustic crimson-that was the proof, the reminder.

Because she knew the one who made it was no longer.

Solona's arms slid down and fell to the bandage wrap, feminine fingers lightly running over the layered fabric. She felt Cole's own arms slide from her body, to her arms, warm fingers gripping her. His blue eyes were watching her. Watching as her delicate fingers toiled and toyed with the white cloth. Tenderly, carefully, cautiously ran over the cloth stained red.

"I had to." Cole's voice was soft, and quiet. His eyes flicked upward, looking upon Solona's own through messy bangs.

He saw the hurt mold within the creases of her face as she frowned. Saw the hurt within the worried crinkle of her brow.

"No, you don't." The mage murmured softly, head shaking. Her black hair was limp against her shoulders as her eyes once more flicked to the bloodied cloth, "Does it hurt?"

The young man merely nodded, his answer simple, "Yes."

Solona resumed to frown, "Here. I'll help you." The young woman's fingers worked on unraveling the cloth, layers falling to the floor.

The slash of a blade marred her lover's skin, Cole wincing, and grunting slightly as the dried blood from the cloth stuck to his flesh, and ripped at his wound as it was uncovered.

"Sorry, Cole..." The witch murmured softly, fresh blood beginning to lazily roll and slide down his pallor skin. In the palm of one of her hands, a soft white light began to well, and grow, pulsing in warmth.

Gently, carefully, Solona placed her palm over the wound, mana surging forth and pulsing into the flesh, warm and soothing, as if a child's blanket. The flesh mended together, leaving behind a layer of sanguine. The blood mage then stood up to her full height, turning to get a cloth and a small bowl filled with water upon the aged table. At least being trapped between a table and her lover was good for something. Turning back to face Cole, Solona dampened the cloth, and carefully dabbed and cleaned the flesh of blood.

"Let me know if it hurts." The Herald whispered softly. Despite the wound being healed, she still did not want to cause any pain to worsen, if it was lingering, or irritate any freshly healed skin.

Cole merely watched the mage through a mess of bangs, "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, love." The young woman spoke gently, quietly, setting the bowl and damp rag upon the wooden table, "Just...Let me know, next time. When you leave to do something dangerous. I would rather know you are potentially going into danger than wonder why you haven't returned home...if..."

A pair of warm hands cupped Solona's face, her eyes meeting his own. His lips gingerly sealed his own to hers, slow and chaste.

Comfort flooded through her, and as Cole pulled away-she saw him smile.

"I will always come back home, Solona." The blonde spoke, forehead pressing against hers, onyx mixed with gold, "For both of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Stay safe!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to up the rating simply due to this chapter. While not too graphic, it still has vague sex and fairly traumatic violence.
> 
> The first section of this chapter was ripped right out of a dream I had.

They had him.

They held him down, one man holding an arm each, and the last-the third, held his legs down by his own weight.

Cole struggled, kicked and flailed, but to no avail. A rogue was fleet of foot, but it mattered not when the limbs were tied and bound, movements limited and lame.

"Let me go!" The Fade-Touched man hissed, words spewing forth with heated wrath, tongue laced with caustic poison. The blonde's legs twisted and spasmed, attempting to kick off his attacker that pinned him down. But rendered lame with limited mobility, his attempts could only bring so much resistance.

They laughed.

Laughed at his struggles.

Laughed at his pleas.

Laughed at the look of cold dread, realization, and horror that splashed over the young man's pale features as he saw the glint of a blade in the moon's light.

They laughed at the fear in his eyes.

They laughed as the last flushes of rage faded, and turned Cole's face an even more pallor hue in raw terror.

"No! No-No, no, no-please-d-don't-!" The rogue's body surged forth with a new power, one that was driven by raw fear, and the primal will to survive. The young man struggled with such force and desperation, that even the three men combined were now struggling to hold him down. The only thing louder than the sounds of struggle, was the frantic, ragged breathing of Cole's heaving chest.

His mind raced in blind panic, thinking of everything, and nothing at the same time, "I-I have to go home! _Please!_ I have to go _home!_ " The young man pleaded, blue eyes shimmering in the moon's pale light with building tears, his limbs spasming and twitching in desperate fight.

Home!

Home!

Home!

He needed to go home!

Solona was home!

He could not go home!

He could not break his promise!

He needed to go home!

He needed to keep his promise!

Tears welled and rimmed within his eyes, threatening to spill.

They smeared his vision.

He didn't see the knife.

He only felt it when it stabbed deep into his belly.

A shrill scream tore through Cole's throat, tears spilling down his face. It was a cry of terror. A cry of pain. A cry of helplessness, " _No-No-sto-_!"

A second stab. deeper, more forceful, more painful.

Then a third.

Then a fourth.

And with each stab received by the merciless, jagged steel, the more Cole fought, and struggled, and pleaded, and screamed, and cried.

Fought for the hope of returning home.

Struggled to escape, to fight off his attackers.

Pleaded for mercy, to be let go, to be allowed to go home.

Screamed in pain, desperation, and rage.

Cried in despair, and sadness at the realization that he would not be able to keep his promise.

Cole would not be able to go home.

He would not see Solona.

He would never live to see their child.

He would not keep his promise.

Knowing that cold, cruel truth and bitter despair was the last thing upon Cole's mind.

His own blood welled passed his chapped lips.

Warmth from his own blood flooded upon him, and dampened the ground.

His struggles lessened, and soon ceased, hot tears smeared upon his pale skin tainted with flecks of sanguine.

* * *

Blue eyes snapped open from a horrid dream.

Solona blinked, eyes wide and drying tears running alongside her temples, feeling as if they were clinging to her skin.

The dream was so real, so upsetting, the blood mage was crying in her sleep.

The young woman exhaled deeply, a hand rising to wipe the cool dampness from her skin, ignoring the beating of her panicked heart. Solona's oceanic eyes fell upon the other half of the bed.

As she expected, Cole was not there. The black haired mage would be lying to herself if she claimed she wasn't crestfallen. She was hoping Cole would have returned home by now-returned whilst she slept the afternoon away. Her neck twisted upon her pillow, eyes flicking to look upon an aged window. Dusk was nearing.

A part of her was relieved.

It wasn't night yet.

Not like it was in her dream.

It meant Cole was safe.

But a part of her was only made more anxious.

It wasn't night yet, like the dream, but night was coming.

Solona tried to block the events of the dream from her mind. Afterall, dreams were just created and weaved by spirits in the Fade.

They were not real.

But what if a part of it was real?

Then Cole could be in danger, if he did not come back home.

What if it was a warning?

Or a sign of danger that had not yet come?

The feeling of a fluttering in her swollen belly tore Solona's mind away from such thoughts-which she convinced herself was foolish. She had more important matters to attend to. Like talking to her bump.

A smile molded upon the mage's features, thin lips upturning. A feminine hand gingerly lay upon her stomach, feeling the fluttering and movement of life within. When Solona spoke, her voice was soft, and gentle, "Hello, honey. Did you have a good nap, too?"

Solona felt the flutter of a small kick.

She took that as a 'Yes'.

The blood mage broadened her smile, "You did? That's good. Did you have any dreams? Better than Mommy's dream, I bet, huh?" It was something Solona found herself doing quite a bit, when she was alone-Floofools aside. Talking to her baby, as if carrying on a conversation with another. Though Solona was unsure if the baby could hear her, or even understand her. It was still a nice feeling. It made her feel like she was betting to know her baby before it was even born. She was trying to show she loved her baby. Because she did, but she wasn't sure how to show it. And Solona didn't entirely feel like waiting until the babe was born.

The woman's palm pressed flush to the fabric of her sleepwear, blue eyes flicking and staring at the ceiling, looking at the cracks in the wood as she thought on what next to say, "I can't wait until you meet your daddy. You'll love him. And he'll love you. He already loves you so much. He'll be so excited to meet you. I...think he'll be a good daddy. And I think I'll be a good mommy. At least, I hope so."

Solona's tongue then ran along her dried lips in thought, "You know, Bump, you have an older brother. Had. He was special. I think you would have liked him, and he would have liked you. I wish you could meet him. I wish he lived long enough...He would have loved your daddy, too." And now in dwelling, Solona was making herself sad. And a part of her now really wished she didn't burn her son's old baby clothes and stuffed bear.

She could have used them again-truly used them-for the first time, for her second child.

But she burnt them, and smeared the ashes upon her face and danced in the rain instead.

"...You would have loved your brother, too, Bump. I did."

The memories of her dreams resurfaced-the one of her son, and then the second of Cole.

Solona hoped the second dream was just a fluke.

It was just her anxious little head making up nonsense again.

Cole was fine.

Would be fine.

And day or night, he would come back home.

He had to.

Solona just had to keep her mind occupied and try to stop worrying so much until Cole returned home.

* * *

Solona never thought she would be so relieved to see Cole walk to the door through their window. The sun's last rays were mere slivers of pink along the horizon, the moon and stars beginning to shine against the dark hue of encroaching night. Cole didn't even have time to open the aged oak door. The blood mage already threw open the aged wood, and ran towards him.

Solona swore she never ran faster in her life.

She never hugged Cole harder.

"Oh, thank the Maker you're okay!" The black haired woman breathed, shoulders slumping in a deep exhale of breath. Solona felt the blonde's arms drape firmly, gently, tenderly around her, and felt his lips press against her hair to calm.

"It's okay." Cole's voice was soft and low, a calloused hand rising to gingerly run his fingers through her hair, "I came home."

The Herald's chest expanded as she breathed deep, burying herself into her lover's chest, feminine fingers curling around the stitched leathers of his shirt, "You did..." Solona's words were laced with relief, concern, yet still lingering fear. She felt Cole's hand running fingers through her hair, the other rubbing the small of her back.

The dream wasn't real.

But it seemed so _real_.

She knew better.

Knew better to believe the stories that the spirits weaved.

But it was the thought that the dream could so easily become so _real_.

It terrified her.

Cole frowned.

He could sense it-the fear.

Just around the soft edges, sharp and jagged, ready to break and pierce. Always there. Always waiting. Silent, lingering, but never gone.

Cole's frown only deepened even more. The fear was still there. The pain was still there. Solona was so loud, he could hear her fear, hear her dread, hear her terror. It was so much worse this time.

"I...died? You saw me die? Daggers in the belly, over and over and over again, tears rimming and blurring, blood drenching and choking..." The Fade-Touched man's breath hitched as a shutter shook him from within, his eyes closing tightly. In fear. In pain. In the realization that her pain could become _real_ pain.

Her fear scared him.

He didn't want her fear-now his fear-to become real.

It could not become real.

Never, ever.

"Cole-" Solona's voice cut through the stillness of the encroaching night, the woman's tone alert and urgent, drawing attention. She pulled away, arms relaxing-if ever slightly, "No more fighting. No more being out at night."

It sounded as if the woman was about to cry, her voice quivering with fret and terror, lower lip trembling and blue eyes shimmering, pleading, " _Please_."

If there was even the slightest chance her dream could mean something-and Solona was sure it didn't-but she didn't want to risk it.

She didn't want Cole to get hurt.

She never wanted him to get hurt-as foolish a wish as it was. He was a fighter, a protector, a defender.

She just didn't want him to die.

An unsteady exhale of breath escaped the blonde's chapped lips, a brief moment of silence turning the air pregnant, "...Okay. I won't." His hands slowly slipped from the small woman, his larger, calloused fingers twirling and intertwining with Solona's own, "I promise."

The Herald lips molded into a small smile, her soft fingers curling around his own, "Thank you, love. Let's go inside, where it's safe."

* * *

Safe.

Cole was safe.

That was all that mattered.

In their home, in their dwelling, in their little, humble sanctuary, he was always safe.

That was what Solona believed-needed to believe.

And the only place she knew Cole was safer-was with her.

Inside her.

Sex was an act the couple partook in often-probably more often than they should have, given Solona's current state.

But they were always careful, cautious, gentle.

Unwilling to harm the fragile life growing within the woman's womb.

Even whilst straddling her lover, hips rising and falling as if the gentle lull of the sea upon a shoreline-Solona still felt it.

The guilt.

The terror.

The fear.

Even with Cole's calloused hands gripping her hips and urging her ever downward, ever deeper, she still felt it.

The guilt.

The worry.

The shame.

A part of her felt guilty for partaking in such an intimate act whilst gravid. Guilt at being a bad mother. What if the babe was hurt? What if they did something wrong?

Was she selfish for choosing to tend to her arousal?

Solona was unsure, even through the quiet gasps and soft moans that escaped her throat. Her hands gripped Cole's own, hot and covered in a film of sweat, back arching and breasts lulling to the rise and fall of her dance. The mage's face flush red, hair bouncing and cascading around her shoulders, a soft sheen enveloping her body, excess sweat rolling lazily from her breasts.

The raven haired woman's eyes were half lidded, mouth half slacked as she sucked in air. She was eager to have the man delve deeper into her core, eager to take more of her lover inside her. Where Cole was safe. Where he would never experience any pain-only pleasure.

She couldn't stand it.

The dream-the memories of the dream-where Cole was in pain. Begging for mercy. Pleading to go home. Where Cole was dying.

She never wanted him to suffer so.

She wanted him to be loved.

She wanted him to feel pleasure.

And seeing Cole's normally pale face flush a red hue, seeing the sweat plaster his bangs to his face, seeing the muscles ripple just under his skin, seeing his chest heave with strenuous, breathless pants and hitches of breath-she knew.

He was feeling exactly what she wanted him to feel.

By the grip of his fingers upon her hips, molding and whitening her flushed skin.

By the gasps and pants that slipped passed his chapped lips.

By the way his eyes were glazed in a haze of pleasure, watching as she danced upon him, bodies joined in an arduous union.

Tears began to well in the woman's eyes, and then gently rolled down her flushed cheek. Their crystalline trails were illuminated by the dull flicker of candlelight. Even through the haze of pleasure and the allure of their dance, Cole noticed.

Their lips joined and molded into one, tongues tying tenderly through heated breath and muffled gasps.

Their bodies heaved, and his lips left a peppered trail of soft kisses, smearing her tears and wiping them away, titillating and comforting.

Solona shuttered and gasped, burying her face against her lover, eyes closing tightly and fingers curling desperately into his flesh.

Nothing mattered but them.

Nothing mattered but being safe.

And in this moment, Solona knew her lover was the safest he could be.

Safe, and loved, in their humble home.

As it should be, always and forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write a bit more, skipping to a different scene, but this seemed like a natural stop. I had an idea that Cole would be able to sense the happiness/sadness of the baby (however basic it would be), which fluctuates based on Solona's stress levels and any singing/humming/talking the baby hears from his and/or her parents.
> 
> Because it gives Cole a different and more intimate way to somewhat interact with the baby.
> 
> Either way, thank you for reading and supporting.
> 
> Feel free to leave a review if you want.
> 
> Stay safe!


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